


Bits & Bobs

by WildBurr



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: 5 Times, Cute, Cybernetics, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Repairs, maintenance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 03:45:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3514133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildBurr/pseuds/WildBurr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 times Peter helped repair Rocket, and once Rocket repaired something of Peter's</p><p>I am unashamedly, wholly supportive of this pairing.</p><p>1. Scarring<br/>2. When you say nothing at all<br/>3. Two steps forward, one step back.<br/>4. In sickness & In health<br/>5. Broken Hearted</p><p>1. Sound of Silence</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bits & Bobs

**Author's Note:**

> First time attempting one of these "5 things" fics, not sure I did it right, but I hope you enjoy anyway.

1\. Scarring

 

Peter scooped the cream onto his fore and middle fingers, gently rubbing his lover's shoulder with his clean hand, looking down at the mass of metal and scar tissue that made up his back. Carefully, he started to rub where metal met flesh, murmuring soothing words under his breath.

Rocket gave a small grunt as pressure was applied to the sensitive skin, but relaxed slightly as the cream did its job, soothing the burn that had built up over the past few days. To be honest, he should have taken care of it when the first twinges turned up, but he was too damn busy...

"Mmph... Lil' higher Pete..."  
The Terran wordlessly obeyed, massaging the cream into his skin, watching the angry red fade slightly to a heated pink under his fingertips. Not for the first time, he hoped Rocket left some of the arseholes who worked on him alive when he broke out. The Ravagers gave him a very _thorough_ education on how to keep someone alive for days on end... And he knew in the back of his mind it would never be enough.

Rocket fave a soft sigh, making his head more comfortable on his folded arms as Quill worked. He was surprised at himself for being such at ease with the humie at his back like this, but tried to convince himself it was just for the maintenance.  
He would never admit that it actually felt kinda nice, closing his eyes as he relaxed, the fire in his back washed away by gentle hands and a soothing icy sensation.

Peter rubbed at the last patch of scar tissue with an air of satisfaction, wiping his hand clean on an old rag.  
"There you go Ranger Rick, good as new." The raccoon merely gave a slight squirm as he adjusted himself, staying silent as he rose and fell with his breaths.  
"Rocket?"  
He looked over at his boyfriends face, giving a small smile. His eyes were closed, and his tongue was slightly poking out of his mouth in the most adorable way possible. If he didn't think he'd get mauled by him later, he would have been tempted to take a photo.

For now, he carefully laid an old blanket over him, bending over to mutter a few choice words in his ear before kissing his head, leaving their shared room to take over pilot duty, humming under his breath.

 

2\. When you say nothing at all

He'll say this for those Half-World freaks. When they tore open an innocent creature and stuffed him with so many gods-knew-what devices, they packed him with plenty of back ups for his essential systems, like sight and cogitation.

Whatever had been deemed _non-essential_ however was lucky to even have a diagnosis system.

Case in point, a more than pissed off (and scared out of his mind, even if he wont admit it) mute raccoon was sitting on the examination table, kicking his legs while looking up at Peter, a mixture of fury, pain and nervousness in his eyes. Peter laid a hand on his shoulder supportively, trying not to look hurt when it had been shrugged off almost instantly.

During their recent outing, one of the scum Nova Prime hired them to detain had the forethought to equip himself with some godsdammed EMP tech, which Rocket had happened to take the brunt of. Scaring Peter to death when he collapsed in a pile like that he might add.

When he woke up back on the Milano, he was given a clean bill of health by Gamora, their acting-medic. All except for his voicebox. To say he was pissed was an understatement. So far he had only allowed Peter and Groot anywhere near him.

Peter carefully sat in front of his lover, silent as he was being glared at before slowly reaching out, attempting to rub that certain spot at his ears he liked. Immediately his hand was smacked away, defiance burning in Rockets eyes. Slowly, he moved them down to his hands, earning him a sneer, but not being pulled out of his grip. Hunching down slightly, he met Rockets eyes with his own, countering everything he saw in them.

 _Animal_ **Friend**  
 _Freak_ **Genius**  
 _Thing_ **Lover**

Rocket's eyes dimmed slightly and made to turn away, only for Peter to turn him back round.

 _Monster..._ **Teammate, protective**  
 _Arsehole_ **Sometimes, caring**  
 _Not worth you_ **Don't be an idiot, I love you**

Rocket clenched his eyes shut as though to stop Star-Lord from pouring himself into him, trembling as he was pulled gently against the man's torso, his hands grabbing hold despite himself as he shook against him, ignoring the warmth down his face.

"We're heading for Xandar... Prime's already shelled out for a replacement..."  
Long fingers gripped furred ones.  
"I'll be with you every step of the way."

Rocket angrily rubbed grit (and anyone who says otherwise is looking for the barrel of a gun in a very private place) from his eyes, looking up to meet Quill's.

 _Promise?_ **Promise**

Rocket squirmed against Peter's chest as the Milano sped off for Xandar, for the first time content with the silence.

 

3\. one step forward, two steps back...

Echoes of Rocket's swearing reverberated through the ship, followed by the careful "I'm doing my best to be patient here" tones of Peter. Wordlessly, Drax raised an eyebrow in question at Gamora who sighed.

"That last drop locked Rocket's hips into place. He says there is a manual catch, but he refuses to let me assist."  
Drax merely grunted and resumed his sharpening. The little one was very defensive regarding his augmentation.  
"Will he require more surgery? The two warriors watched each other as Rocket gave another foul tirade, followed by Peter's diplomatic voice.  
"An upgrade would benefit him. However, I think the chances of that occurring is less than you suddenly understanding each of Peter's phrases."

\- - - - - - -

Within the small sick bay, Peter was trying hard not to snap at the smallest member of his crew.  
"Rocket. Sweetheart. Baby. There's no shame in as-"  
"Who's ashamed ye D'ast humie!? I can... Fix... This... On my own!"

Rocket's hand stretched as he tried to reach behind him, grunting with the effort as his fingers waggled, as though he could pull his way through the air before yelling out another string of curses. Despite himself, Peter was impressed. Half of them he had never heard before and sounded particularly obscene. He'd have to ask to be taught once this had blown over.

"I can help... Just let me press the switch and-"

In hindsight, he shouldn't have reached out like that. Before he knew it, several sharp teeth were embedded in his hand, drawing blood before pulling back, the Terran cradling his hand to his chest.  
"What the _fuck_ Rocket?"  
Peter glared at the raccoon locked on all fours, blood coating his lips, before swearing, grabbing a roll of bandages and marching out of the room, wishing it had a proper door for slamming.

The bounty hunter panted, ignoring the blood on his tongue as he squirmed and struggled to reach his lower spine. Eventually he gave a loud curse and lay panting on the floor, still locked up.  
"... Fuck."

Sighing, he crawled over to the door, grumbling as he looked up at the switch, currently twice his height above him. He looked at the chronometer set into the wall as his gut began demanding food. Shelving his pride, he reached for his communicator...

Before remembering Peter had stowed it along with his weapons when he helped him on board.  
"... _Fuck_..."

Glancing around the room, he spotted no less than five ways he could break out, ten if he wasn't worried about damage to the ship. Of course, all that depended on him being upright...

He glanced at the timepiece again, grumbling. Pete wouldn't let him stay here too long. He'll be back.

\- - - - - - - 

He fucked up. He _really_ fucked up.

The night cycle came online and Rocket was still stuck in the med-bay. No Gamora. No Drax. Groot was still rooted in his pot.

Worst of all. No Peter.

He thumped his head against the door, irritable from lack of sleep. Too used to Peter's warmth and scent. Too many chemicals and sedatives scents bringing up memories. Cursing himself, he yelled out again, hoping someone would come to see what the fuss was about.

Just as he was about to consider starting a fire, the door opened, Gamora holding Drax's arm above his head, blood dripping on the floor. Ignoring their questions, he scampered out, weaving between their legs, heading for their... Peter's room. Peering through, he saw his boyfriend on thei- _His_ bed, listening to his mixtape. Some sixth sense made him look up, watching the Raccoon with a blank expression on his face. Wordlessly he closed his eyes, his bandaged hand reaching for his cassette player, turning the volume up.

Slowly he crept into the room, climbing onto the bed. If he felt the mattress dip, he never showed it. Fingers twitching uneasily,he poked Star-Lord on the arm, muttering quietly.  
"Pete? C'mon Pete, I'm sorry..."  
He whimpered, an honest to gods whimper, as Peter turned onto his side, back facing his lover. Glancing at the heavily bandaged hand, he couldn't help but think maybe he deserved it. Grabbing the headphones, he tugged them down to Quill's neck, letting the tinny sounds of "Cherry Bomb" into their cabin.

"... Ye know.... One of the worst ways... _They_ used to keep me in line was forcing me back to all fours."  
He grumbles, laying down, back to back.  
"When I was like that, it was... I was little more than an animal. I couldn't do anything properly, my shoulders ached... And there was no dignity. Everything had to be carried in my mouth."  
He mumbles as he closed his eyes.  
"I don't like thinking about... How easily i can be stripped of everything like that. I shouldn't have snapped. Yer the first decent guy I've met since Groot. I should... Trust ye more."

Seconds pass before Peter gives an exasperated sigh, turning round until his chest was flush with Rocket's back, fingers rubbing that spot at his ears he liked.  
"You're an idiot... Come on, let's get you sorted out..."

No one mentioned anything when Peter returned to the med-bay with Rocket in his arms. They certainly never saw the usual foul mouthed, violent bounty hunter give a small lick of apology to Star-Lords wrist.

 

4\. In sickness & In health

"I'm blamin' you fer this..."  
Peter muttered slightly under his breath as he helped Rocket to prop himself up onto the extra pillows he had pulled from somewhere. The furred bounty hunter had the unfortunate luck to be sneezed on by a member of the public during their last outing, and he was paying the price. Shivering, aches in his joints, his throat was rasping and to top I all off he felt so weak he could barely stagger around the Milano. 

Peter, for one, could tell how serious it was when he asked him to stop building bombs in / out of his ship and he not only _agreed_ , but told them all he'd be holed up in their room, sleeping it off.

Too bad that only made it about ten times worse from the Raccoon's perspective. Now even the thought of climbing out of bed made him groan audibly.  
Peter, naturally, took it upon himself to take care of Rocket's needs while the rest of the team hunted down their mark, giving his ill lover a small buzzer to call on him whenever he needs something. The glint in Rocket's eye really should have warned him.

 _Bzzzzzz_ "Peeeete! I'm cold!"  
 _Bzzzzzz_ "Peeeete! Grab me one o' those fruit bars, would ya?"  
 _Bzzzzzz_ "Star-Dork! Its too hot in here!"  
 _Bzzzzzzz Bzzzzzzz Bzzzzzzzzzzzzz_

By the time the rest of the team returned, Peter was dreading the next buzzer call, already trying to keep an eye on a thick soup/stew thing Drax mentioned having helped his daughter through illness while keeping a pitcher of that fruit juice he liked chilling in the cooler and keeping the air conditioning from blowing too hard, too soft, too hot or too dry.

By the time "evening" rolled in, Quill was run ragged, sitting next to a content Rocket as he gave up the bed for the night.  
"Feeling better...?"  
Rocket squirmed a little in the empty bed, relishing in the rarely felt space while still feeling hidden.  
"Yeah, actually. Who knew ye'd make a half decent nursemaid?" He bared his teeth in a grin as Peter lightly chuckled, folding his arms and making himself comfortable on the chair.  
"Before... Before she had to go to the hospital, I used to take care of mum... Cooking meals, doing errands..."  
He gave Rocket a grin.  
"I kinda missed looking after someone..."

Rocket groaned to himself, buried beneath the blankets. That... D'ast humie and... Making him feel stuff...  
"Hey, Pete? Thanks... I mean that."

A soft snore was his only reply as he rolled his eyes, sinking deep into the blankets.

 

5\. Broken Hearted.

Peter Quill, AKA, Star-Lord, would be the first to say he had a rather easy going, carefree nature. So long as no one got hurt, hey, go wild! Have fun, enjoy yourself!

Because no one knew better than he and the rest of the guardians how swiftly a life could be snuffed out. Watching his mother wither away like that was the hardest thing he's ever gone through.

But there was one rule that was the exception. No hurting anyone, or he'll stop you.  
Hurt someone he cares for? Pray he never catches up.

\- - - - - - - 

They aren't sure when, or even where, it happened. All they knew is that Rocket went out, clean and healthy... And returned, covered in blood (some not his own, not enough), with sloppy, self stitching over his chest, clutching a makeshift taser in his hand.  
When Gamora carried him into the med-bay he didn't need his lover's genius IQ to know something was terribly wrong. She wouldn't look him in the eye as she hooked him up to a machine he couldn't pronounce, less figure out the purpose of. She refused to speak as she searched among her personal store of replacement cybernetics.

Peter refused to hear her let out a barely smothered sob when the correct part wasn't found.

Instead, he nearly ran to the cockpit, punching in co-ordinates that Rocket had made him promise never to go near, no matter how large the cash reward.  
If there was one group that could get the jump on Rocket, it would be his creators. And if there was only place in the Galaxy that they could get his stolen part or a replacement...

He barely paid attention as he smashed several Xandarian laws, growling at a worried Gamora that Prime could take it up with him later. He was hardly out of orbit when he kicked the engines into overdrive, barely hearing Drax's inquiry.

"Half-World. We're going to Half-World."

\- - - - - - - - - 

Drax was no stranger to revenge. He could still feel its grip around his heart whenever he heard word of another of the Mad Titan's atrocities. But he was from a strong, brutal race, even I he had preferred the simple life of a farmer.

Seeing Quill of all people, consumed by such rage was... Terrifying. And he meant, consumed. There was nothing of the affectionate, confusing half Terran that had welcomed him into his life. 

That was nothing, however, compared to what happens when they stormed the facility where Rocket had been mutilated in the name of science. He barely waited for the two warriors of the team, trusting Groot to protect Rocket in their absence. Blaster in each hand, he was in constant motion, his feet moving in a different dance as he struck out, dealing death without a thought or a pause.

Only when the security forces, well armed and armoured men and women, lay motionless at his feet did he pause, looking around once before continuing.

Drax knew, for certain, that if their fates were any different, that if he had been among the soldiers guarding this place, he would have been on his way to reunite with his family.

The thought made him uneasy.

\- - - - - - 

When the two caught up to Peter, he was holding a group of scientists at gun point, eyes cold and hard.  
"Which one of you did it. Which one tore him open and yanked out what's keeping him in one piece."  
Gamora tried to grip his arm, only to be shoved off, aiming above their heads and firing, causing the assorted men and woman to cower, whimpering. A part of him wonders if they saw the irony. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a young woman, maybe a year younger than him. Covered in claw marks, electrical burns over her arm. Snarling, he turns both blasters at her as she held out her arms, yelling.

"No, please, I had to, they would let me join otherwise, pl-"  
The first blast caught her in the throat, silencing her. The second right between her terrified eyes.

He swung his blasters back over the crowd of scientists, advancing as they struggled and yelled out among each other. With a dull whine, he charged up both weapons, glaring.  
"Now. One of you is going to help Rocket. And every time you tell me no... I'm going to shoot one of you."  
He kicked the boot of the one who had torn Rocket apart for emphasis, glaring.  
"What's it going to be?"

\- - - - - - - 

Rocket clenched his eyes tightly as he drifted back into consciousness, wincing at the dull ache over his chest. Squinting, he turned his head to the site, giving a weak chuckle, looking down at his hand.

"Heh... What are you sleepin' for Star-Dork..." He grunted, getting more comfortable on the med-bay bed.  
"You ain't the one who had surgery..."  
Gripping his hand tighter, he let himself fall back to sleep. The hows could wait...

 

1+. Sound of Silence

 

To say that Rocket was pissed was an understatement. Once Gamora and Drax filled him in on the stupid stunt he pulled at Half-World, he... Well...

Lets just say Peter got a _big_ thank you. And an even bigger warning not to be so _flarken_ stupid ever again.

But he will. This is Peter we're talking about.

He reached out for a small componant, licking dry lips as he carefully slid it into place.

Damned idiot didn't even notice the firepower that was launched at him, just stepped through them all, practically burning with fury.

He snatched up an old cassette spool, grunting as he coaxed it into its slot.

Then there was his damned nurse routine. Calming him down when he lost his voice... Forgiving him for that whole biting incident...

He tugged a small data chip from the ship's comms. Unit, slotting it into a space on the back, grabbing another price of scrap metal.

He rolled his eyes. Damned idiot didn't even notice his precious cassette player was hit.

Slotting the metal into place, he smirked and stood, examining his latest creation.

All for me. Damned idiot...

He scampered back to their room, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend currently moping on their bed. Climbing up, he leaned over Quill's shoulder, dropping his creation in front of him.

"Ta-da. Don't say I never gave ye nuthun' Quill."

He chuckled under his breath as Peter sat up, rubbing the metal replacement slowly.  
"Rocket... I...."  
The Raccoon snorts as he climbed onto his lap, squirming.  
"Yeah, yeah, don't mention it. Seriously, don't, got a reputation to maintain."  
He gave a half smirk as he plugged in his headphones, letting the music wash over him. Gripping his shirt, he yanked him down, pressing their mouths together as gentle hands rubbed his back.

"Yeah... Love you too Star-Dork."


End file.
